Certainties
by RockBabi
Summary: Matthew Williams has spent a lifetime being unseen, and is finally going to end that. But what if he was wrong, and someone DOES see him? Someone like the Awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt? Songfic  Don't Jump, Tokio Hotel . Human names used. ANGST.


**Disclaimer: ***sigh* Why are these so necessary? I don't own Hetalia, 'kay? If I did... well, we won't go there. ;) I also don't own Tokio Hotel. [Although, if anyone wants to give them to me for my birthday or something, I'm totally down with that. :p]

**Rating: T. **Because, if you've ever heard the song "Don't Jump", you know what it's about. And it's a touchy, serious subject. Plus, Gilbert has kind of a potty-mouth... [although it's not so bad in this fic]

**Summary: **After spending a lifetime being unseen by everyone around him, Matthew Williams [Canada] is going to jump. But what if he was wrong, and someone _did_ see him? Someone like the Awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt [Prussia], who's actually rather taken with young Matthew?

**AN: **Okay, so the story behind the story... Ever had one of those strange dreams that comes complete with its own soundtrack? Well, about a week ago I did, and the song was "Don't Jump", quite possibly one of the best, most moving songs in the history of music. The dream kinda freaked me out, though, and when I couldn't stop thinking about it I decided I'd write it down. Then, I changed up a bunch of stuff, to make it a little less... personal, I guess. And thus, _Certainties_ was born! It's super angsty still, so heads up about that, but otherwise I think it's aight. Enjoy! [I guess... sort of weird to put on a story like this, but schwatev.]

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><p>On top of the roof,<p>

Matthew Williams was cold. His shaky breath was misting in front of his face and his fingertips were numb. The wetness on his face—was he crying? He wasn't sure—was literally freezing on his cheeks. There was old snow on the concrete; the kind that was hard and bitter and more like ice than snow. It had melted in some areas, only to refreeze when night fell. The resulting ice was hard to see and would send a person toppling over the concrete ledge if they weren't careful.

Matthew was careful, though, and by now he knew every detail of this rooftop.

The air is so cold and so calm.

It would snow tonight. He could tell by how cold and unmoving the air was; even up here—nearly ten stories up—there was only the faintest of breezes.

Matthew inhaled deeply, hating the way his chest shook as he did. He hated crying.

Anymore, though, it seemed like that was all he did.

I say your name in silence,

This was the place he came to think. He came here to look out at the city or up at the stars or watch the sunset or sometimes even the sunrise; and as he did so, he would quietly contemplate.

Sometimes he thought about his parents; about how, despite the way they constantly fought and his dad couldn't stay away from alcohol and his mom couldn't stay away from other men, he loved them. He just wished they noticed.

Sometimes he thought about his brother; his perfect, loud, good-looking, stuck-up, out-going, obnoxious, strangely lovable brother. He was an ass sometimes (most times), but at least he paid attention to Matthew. Occasionally. Admittedly, it was usually to brag about some sports victory or how he had been someone's hero again, but it was attention. And he seemed to be the only person capable of making their parents stop arguing for any length of time—they rather enjoyed doting on their eldest son, and could manage to be civil long enough to praise him.

Sometimes he thought about school; being the quietest kid in class didn't mean he was dumb or uninterested in the politics—er, social dynamics—of the student body. Actually, being quiet meant he had a lot of time to listen and as such, probably knew more about what was going on at the school than anyone else. If anybody cared to listen, Matthew knew enough to blackmail every person at their small high school.

Sometimes he thought about his neighbors—and how he would never understand Germans. One moment the apartment next door could be completely silent, save for the occasional telephone ring or bird chirp; the next, usually when the older son got home, the apartment exploded into loud techno music and yelling in German until eventually someone got angry and stormed out of the apartment—usually the blonde one. He would never understand why his mother was constantly inviting them over for dinner or 'movie nights' that almost always ended in disaster.

None of them—not even their strange, plaited-haired father—seemed to notice him either.

Sometimes he thought about life in general; what was it all about, anyway? Was there any real purpose in it? When the mood struck him, Matthew found he could be quite the philosopher. He had spent hours staring at the city lights and wondering what was the point in all the hectic craziness of life down there.

Sometimes he thought about the opposite side of that coin: death. When the mood struck him—and that happened more and more frequently, it seemed—he could contemplate the morbid subject for hours. Was there anything after it? Did it really matter of there was?

And sometimes, his thoughts strayed back to those neighbors of his—

Matthew shook his head, stopping himself. No, he wasn't going to go there tonight.

You don't wanna hear it right now.

Tonight, he had something else on his mind. It included a little bit of all the things he usually pondered, he supposed, but it wasn't really due to any of them specifically.

Tonight, he wondered—as he had for several weeks now—what would happen if he _wasn't_ so careful and went over the edge of the concrete rooftop. You see, in all those years of thinking and questioning, he had come up with a few certainties, even a few answers:

1) Some people just aren't going to be seen. Or heard. Or known at all. He was one of those people.

2) Some people will always shine. No matter what they do or say, they will be seen as perfect. They will always overshadow the people around them. His brother was one of those people.

3) Anonymity, for all the blackmail power it could give you, sucked. It more than sucked, it hurt. It made him empty and cold and desperate on the inside—and he hated that. He needed to be seen, even just once. But according to certainty #1, that would never happen.

4) As far as he could tell, there was no purpose in life. It was chaos and heartache and annoyance and pain, all for the sake of whatever the hell you wanted to live for. And if you didn't want to live for anything… well, there was an option for that, too.

5) If there was no point in life, how could there possibly be one in death? And, no, it didn't really matter if there was anything after death. Because he was too sick of 'empty and cold and desperate' to care about vague impossibilities.

And so, Matthew's ponderings were coming to a close. And his anonymity with them. Putting the fluffy, white, stuffed bear in his arms on the ground, he pulled a small notepad and pen out of his jacket. With numb fingers and a pen whose ink was rapidly freezing, he scratched these five certainties onto the paper. Then, he signed his name.

As he looked over the splotchy, messy page and the cloud-filled sky and the bustling city below him, Matthew realized there one thing he had forgotten. With shaky hands he scribbled it onto the bottom of the page.

Then, he put the book next to the bear, dropped the pen, and climbed onto the concrete ledge.

~*~LineBreak~*~

The eyes of the city

Gilbert Beilschmidt was hot—and he knew it. He was even better looking than that obnoxious Alfred kid who lived next door to him. Which was saying something, since Alfred was pretty much the hottest guy in town—after Gilbert.

Gilbert was Awesome—with a capital A. Seriously, he was the coolest person he knew, and he knew a lot of people. He made other people more awesome just by standing close to them.

Gilbert was also gay. Not that anyone really knew, other than his brother and his two closest friends. (Was it weird that one of them was his neighbor's mom? Nah… this was Gilbert; it was just awesome.) None of that mattered, though. What mattered was that the city's most eligible bachelor wasn't interested in women in the slightest.

Of course, that didn't mean they weren't interested in _him_. In fact, he could feel eyes on him that very moment as he walked down the frozen street towards his home. He smirked.

Oh yes, Gilbert was _hot._ And Awesome.

Are countin' the tears fallin' down.

None of these things exempted him from confusion, however, and right now Gilbert was very confused. Of course, it was a 'boy-problem'.

Gilbert was smitten.

There were a few issues with that, though. For starters, the guy's older brother hated him. (For that matter, so did his dad.) And he was his best friend's son. He was pretty sure that was against some code somewhere.

Most importantly, he couldn't seem to get his attention, no matter what he did.

At first, he'd tried being more obnoxious than normal—deliberately playing his music louder than usual or irritating his brother just to make a scene. Antonio had been quick to point out that that would only annoy the boy, not get him to like Gilbert, so he'd switched tactics. He'd started leaving earlier than usual for school, just so that he could run into him in the hall. That didn't work either, as he could never get him on his own, without either of their brothers around. He'd even started going to those ridiculous dinner parties of Francis'.

When that failed, he'd finally given up and asked for the woman's advice. She'd gotten way too excited of course, and demanded details that he wouldn't give (like who the "lucky guy" was), and given a lot of… questionable suggestions, but in the end it was worth it. He'd walked back to his apartment with a plan guaranteed to get his attention. Or so he'd thought.

Each one a promise

The next day, he'd watched from his front door as Matthew came home to find something waiting for him in front of _his_ door. A big, fluffy, Awesome something. A stuffed polar bear, which Gilbert knew with relative certainty was Matthew's favorite animal. (Thanks to Francis, and his always being invited to their apartment, Gilbert actually knew quite a lot about the shy boy.) On the bear's neck was a bright red ribbon, and a simple note that said:

"_For Mattie. A little Birdy told me you might like this."_

Of everything you never found.

Apparently he hadn't been clear enough in the note, though, because the blonde had simply looked around after reading it and then carried the bear gingerly into the apartment. Gilbert hadn't heard anything about it since then.

He sighed loudly as he rounded the corner and saw his apartment building come into view. He shifted the single book bag strap on his shoulder and quickened his step, anxious to get out of the cold. As he neared the steps, Gilbert glanced quickly at the clouds and the extra snow they promised…

And promptly dropped his book bag, a look of shock spreading across his face.

Before he was fully aware of what he was doing, Gilbert found himself running through the lobby of the building and furiously smacking the elevator call button. It seemed to take an eternity for the elevator to finally arrive and when it did, it was already crowded. Barely allowing the other tenants time to get out, he was rushing into the little metal box and pushing the button for the top floor.

~*~LineBreak~*~

You open your eyes,

Matthew took another deep breath and looked up at the sky—the clouds looked low and ready to deliver their gift at any moment. _Snow's cool and all,_ he thought, _but it would be nice to see the stars one more time…_

But you can't remember what for.

Briefly, he allowed his mind to wander again. He wondered how this would affect the people around him. Would they notice then? He doubted his parents would, but what about Alfred? Would he be upset by his little brother's decision?

His eyes drifted to stuffed bear. What about the mysterious 'little Birdy'? Would they, whoever they were, be bothered?

Did it matter?

The snow falls quietly,

Matthew stared at the bear for a long time but did not get down from the ledge. Whoever they were, he decided, they couldn't possibly be upset. The whole thing was probably a mistake, meant for someone else. Come on, 'Mattie'? That was something you called a child, and Matthew was definitely not a kid. The delivery guy probably got the apartment number wrong or something like that.

So why did it feel so perfect, meant for him somehow?

He'd gotten lost in his musings again, and hadn't noticed the light, fluffy snowflakes that had started drifting to the ground. They landed on his hair and clothes, but didn't melt. He'd given up trying to warm his fingers a while ago—what did frostbite matter when you were going to be dead in a matter of minutes?

You just can't feel it no more.

~*~LineBreak~*~

Somewhere out there

Gilbert groaned impatiently as the elevator stopped at the sixth floor. This wasn't fast enough; he needed to get to the rooftop _now. _When the doors opened he rushed out of them, nearly knocking the pair in front of them over. He vaguely heard the boy yell something after him and somewhere in the back of his mind it registered that he was Matt's brother. The information was forgotten as soon as it was realized. Gilbert's sole focus was on getting to the rooftop.

When he reached the staircase hidden at the end of the hall, he slammed through the door and took the steps two at a time.

You lost yourself in your pain.

What was he thinking, standing so close to the edge like that? Didn't he realize how dangerous it was? Somehow, it was impossible to think that Matt was there on purpose. It was inconceivable that he could _want_ to be there. And yet…

You dream of the end,

What was he _thinking? _Had Gilbert missed something, in all those years spent as his neighbor? He must have, because he just couldn't see a reason for this.

Or… had something happened? But what?

Gilbert had been hyper-aware of Matt lately, and he hadn't seemed any different. Maybe a little more withdrawn, but not—

Oh, god.

For all his Awesomeness, Gilbert was not very good at understanding people. That was what he relied on Francis and Antonio for. How was he supposed to see the signs? With Matt being as quiet as he was, how was he supposed to realize something was wrong? Of course they were obvious _now_, but he couldn't have seen them earlier…

Could he?

To start all over again.

Gilbert had never considered himself very religious, but as he ran up the steps—his legs beginning to burn with the sudden exertion—he prayed to any god he could think of.

Please, just let him get there in time. Let him get off the ledge.

Just give him a chance to fix this. To start over, and see the signs and stop it from ever coming to this.

~*~LineBreak~*~

I scream into the night for you,

Gilbert burst through the rooftop door with a bang, startling Matthew. The sudden jump upset his balance, and the blonde had to throw his arms out to steady himself.

"Matthew!" Gilbert called, hands on his knees as he fought to breathe the frigid air. "Mattie, please…"

Matthew was surprised, to say the least. What was _he_ doing here, of all people?

"Gilbert?" His voice was soft as it had always been, but the other man heard it clearly. "What are you—?"

Don't make it true.

"Mattie, please. Get off the edge."

Matthew stiffened. That was what this was about? Was Gilbert just trying to play hero, like his older brother was so fond of doing? His lavender eyes hardened as he turned back to the street.

For once, he was going to leave someone else unnoticed.

Don't jump.

"What do you want, Gilbert?" Something flared in his chest as he heard the blonde's voice. He had never heard it so… raw. Hurt.

"Matthew, please don't do this." he straightened and took a few hesitant steps toward the edge.

The lights will not guide you through,

"Why not?" he countered.

"Why would you?" He made a quiet noise that sounded suspiciously like a scoff, and looked over his shoulder at something on the ground. Gilbert recognized the bear, still wearing the ribbon. Beside it, something was poking out of a thin layer of snow. Hesitantly, Gilbert walked to it and picked up the notepad—the pages now damp and discolored.

He looked questioningly at Matt, who shrugged. Swallowing, Gilbert looked down at the smudged note.

"_Some people just won't be seen. They'll never be known, never be heard. I am one of those people._

"_Some people will always shine. Some people will always be loved and everything they do will be praised. They'll always outshine everyone around them. That's you, Al. It's not a bad thing, necessarily, it just __is__._

"_Anonymity, no matter what they say about it, sucks. It hurts. _

"_I just needed to be seen._

"_So as far as I can see, there's no real need for me here. There's no real purpose in this life—you live it for whatever the hell you want to live it for, or you don't live at all... and I don't have anything to live it for anymore. Mom, Dad, and Al… You guys are just fine without me. _

"_But me? I'm not just fine. I'm tired. Tired of not being seen. Tired of feeling so empty. Tired of being so unneeded. Just tired. And it hurts… _

"_But not anymore._

"_Matthew_

"_Even though you probably haven't noticed it, I love you, and if what I'm about to do hurts you at all, I'm sorry."_

Gilbert lifted his eyes to look at the back of Matt, who was waiting patiently for him to finish reading. For a long moment, it was silent on the rooftop as he tried to find the right words.

"You're wrong." He said at last.

They're deceiving you.

Matthew was surprised again. Honestly, he didn't know what he'd expected from Gilbert but it wasn't this—any of this.

"What do you mean?" he asked, turning to look over his shoulder at him.

"You're wrong, Mattie." He said again, and Matthew's eyes widened. Mattie? But… his eyes flashed to the snow-covered polar bear.

"You're not one of those people. _I_ see you." He had never had anyone look at him before—not like this. It was a little unnerving, to be honest, having Gilbert's eyes locked on him so intently. It was almost as though he was telling the truth, and he _did_ see Matthew. But he couldn't, could he? Matthew was not someone meant to be seen. That's why this was all okay…

Don't jump.

He turned back to the street.

Don't let memories go,

"Why are you doing this?" he whispered.

"Because…" Gilbert trailed off for a moment, trying to find adequate words. "Because there _is _a need for you here. P-people need you." He stammered slightly, his chest still painfully tight as he watched Matt on the ledge.

He scoffed again.

Of me and you.

"It's true, Mattie—"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Matthew interrupted, thoroughly confused by the way the night was turning out.

"What?"

"Mattie. Why do you keep calling me that? My name's Matthew."

"I—I know it is. I just… I don't really know, alright? I just like Mattie. I think it suits you."

"Suits me?" he glanced back at the other man again. "You don't know me."

"Yes I do." Gilbert answered, his voice pleading. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. I see you, _Matthew_." he stressed Matthew's full name, as though to emphasize that he did, in fact, listen to the blonde. "I hear you, I _know_ you. I—"

The world is down there, out of view.

"_I _need you." Matt turned his head again, his eyebrows snapped together confusedly.

"What?" His voice was quieter than normal and Gilbert's heart beat out of rhythm for a moment.

"I need you." He said again. "So please… Please come down. Don't do this."

Please don't jump.

Matthew shifted his feet, so he was standing sideways on the ledge. To his right were the bright lights of the city and the fall that would finally end the emptiness. To his left was Gilbert; standing just feet away from him and watching him with wet eyes. To his left was… someone who needed him? A chance to feel something other than cold? Was that even possible for him?

His eyes shifted between the two options.

I don't know how long,

"Your favorite color's red." Gilbert blurted suddenly, surprising them both. "And your favorite animal is a polar bear—you have them all over your room. You love pancakes, but you'll eat anything you can put maple syrup on. You don't talk much, but you hear everything—because you listen. And for a guy who's so smart, you can be really blonde sometimes."

Matt was staring at him in shock. He cocked his head at the last part of Gilbert's rant.

"I've been trying to get your attention for months." he admitted before swallowing nervously.

"Gilbert…"

I can hold you so strong.

Gilbert held up his hands, cutting Matthew off.

"Let me finish. Mattie, I care about you. And I'm sorry it took so long, but I _do_ see you. I _don't_ want to see you hurt. I don't want you to live like this anymore." he indicated the note in his hands. Then, rather unceremoniously, he dropped it on the ground.

I don't know how long…

"I'm not perfect and I can't guarantee that I'll always get things right, in fact I'm pretty sure I'll mess up a lot along the way, but I want to _try_. So please, Mattie… give me a chance?"

Just take my hand,

Matthew stared openmouthed as Gilbert held out his hand and waited for a response. He looked back down at the street, and was surprised to see some people standing on the sidewalk, looking up. Were they… watching _him?_ He bit his lip.

He was so used to being ignored, and so ready to end that. He'd been more than ready to end his own life. He'd been ready to jump. But… could he end it another way? Was Gilbert serious when he said he cared?

He looked back to the man who would be his 'savior'. He was waiting, his arm still outstretched.

Give it a chance.

There was a strange feeling in Matthew's chest; one that he couldn't quite figure out. He'd never felt it before. Was this what it was like to be cared about, or what it felt like to care about someone else? Because, either way, it felt… good. Warm, even.

He watched as Gilbert swallowed and stepped closer to Matthew. His scarlet eyes were shining.

He wasn't lying. Even Matthew could see that he meant what he'd said.

Don't jump.

He swallowed and held out his hand, putting it just over Gilbert's. His neighbor smiled as he closed his hand around Matthew's. He held it tightly as the blonde stepped off the ledge and back onto the roof. Distantly, they could hear the soft sound of clapping from the ground. Matthew blushed.

Don't jump.

"Uhm, I'm—" Gilbert cut him off by yanking on his hand and pulling him into a firm hug.

"Don't scare me like that, Birdie…" he murmured into Matthew's hair, the relief obvious in his voice. After a long moment Matthew returned the embrace, unaware that he was shivering.

"Whoa…" Gilbert leaned back and put the back of his hand on the other's cheek. "Jesus, you're cold." He muttered, becoming worried again. "How long have you been up here?"

"Uhm, I'm not sure… A while, I guess. I watched the sunset."

"Holy shit, Mattie! That was hours ago!" he pulled away from Matthew, but grabbed his hand again. "Come on, we have to get you inside."

Still very much confused, but not complaining, by this turn of events, Matt allowed Gilbert to lead him to a lump in the snow near the ledge. The albino reached down and brushed the layer of snow off before picking up the damp bear and handing it back to him. The blonde smiled sheepishly as he grabbed it.

Gilbert's grin faded as he saw the notepad in the snow over Matt's shoulder. Matt also looked down at the little book, chewing his lip as they thought over what to do with it. Eventually, he let go of Gilbert's hand and reached down to pick it up. Shifting the bear to the crook of his elbow, Matt held the wet pages in both hands and looked over the fading, smudged lines.

And then, with clumsy, numb fingers, he ripped them into as many small pieces as he could. When he was satisfied that they were unreadable, he stepped to the ledge and hurled the shreds into the air.

Gilbert was watching him with an unreadable expression when Matt turned back around. He swallowed nervously, afraid that the other man was going to disappear now that he wasn't in danger of leaping off their apartment building. (Not tonight, anyway.) But then, at long last, he gave a soft smile and put a hand on his cheek again.

"You'll be okay, Mattie." He said quietly. "We'll make it through this."

"'We?'"

"If you'll have me." He smirked a little as he waited on Matt's response, the expression so familiar it was the only way of successfully covering up his nerves at the suggestion.

Matthew didn't have to think long. He simply smiled and took Gilbert's free hand in his own, nodding.

Gilbert grinned. "Come on," he said, pulling the other towards the door. "My brother looks pretty mean, but he makes a damn good cup of hot chocolate."

~*~LineBreak~*~

And if all that can't hold you back,

They had a long road ahead of them, and Gilbert knew it wouldn't be easy. He was Awesome, but even he couldn't rewrite a lifetime of hurt overnight. This was going to take time, more than anything. Time and patience and caring and a lot of other things Gilbert knew he wasn't very good at. But he could learn those things, and anything else they would need. If that's what it took to make Mattie happy, then that's what he'd do.

Then I'll jump for you.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>So... yeah. ^^' Review, please?

Oh, and before anybody worries: No, I absolutely am not suicidal.

EDIT [6 January 2012] - Wow. I honestly didn't expect such strong reactions to this... You're right, "Derpy", I never thought I'd do anything like that. But if I helped even a little, than I'm glad. You posted anonymously and I didn't really know how to get back in touch with you, so I thought I'd give this a try. If you need any help or someone to talk to or anything like that, please feel free to PM me, anytime.

The same goes for anyone else out there. I... Well, let's just say I've been there. I've been the Mattie. So I know how impossible things can seem, but I promise, PROMISE, that it gets better.

If you want to talk to someone, you could also give this website/Facebook page a visit:

STOP Teenage Suicide - http: / www . facebook . com / 2012stop (remove spaces)

If you live in the US, all the numbers for Suicide Hotline (In America: 1-800-273-8255) can be found here:

http: / suicidehotlines . com/ (remove spaces)

Please, if you find yourself thinking about suicide, call them. Talk to someone. I understand that it's dark now, but it can and will get better. There are other options. Just hold on, because pain ends. I know it does.

It gets better. :D (And sorry, TrevorProject, for stealing your slogan...)


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